


Her perfume

by FrenchFrostPudding



Category: British Actor RPF, Hiddleston - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Tom's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-12 01:45:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5649175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrenchFrostPudding/pseuds/FrenchFrostPudding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because we started to daydream about Tom's perfume,we switch the place and think about if it was him who was obsessed by your perfume. It's a little story inspired by a conversation I had with sarabeth72.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her perfume

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarabeth72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarabeth72/gifts).



Finally I'm at home....weeks in another country, few days in my family and now I'm at home...In my big house in the heart of London.

  
I started a new year, wandering in my neighbourhood... my grocery and its last tangerines of Christmas, my bakery and its smell of fresh bread, the rain, the cold sun, even the moss growing on the walls, reminds me that I'm in London...   
I took the tube, to go to Camden, seeing old friends, eating a proper meal....yes a French one... 

Even if I need to be a bit alone, seeing these girls in the restaurant, filming me and giggling, was funny... It made me smile..  
But a sad smile though... because it reminded me how much alone I am in this big city... Friends and family are good but you know...now I need to share all of this with someone I trust, who support me..maybe start a family. I can't wait to smell baby cream, little homemade baby potty, or some homemade biscuits cooked by little hands and their mummy...   
I walked, the head in the clouds, and I smelled it... Or did I dream of it ?  
That sweet, feminine fragrance it's like a aromatic reflection of the sweetest side of passion, the epitome of feminine seduction, with a hint of playful flirtation.  
It smelled like a thousand of dark red roses...blending feminity and boldness. But where was the creature who wore that much promises ??  
I was just off the tube and she seemed to not be here anymore...

I sighed ...loudly... even the controller saw my dismay.. I walked down the street to reach my house, hands in the pocket, and my sweet lady gone...  
  
Last night I was off , down town to catch up some movies; when I was back at home, in the cold night, I sensed it again...my dark rose...

Like a hunter, I took a deep breath and followed the smell... A few meters before my own door it stopped... A bit angry I tried to find where she was...

I saw the familiar pub and took my chance and entered inside... I could detect all the alcohol : beer, gin, whisky...some food too.  
I waved my hand to the bartender who recognized me and reached the back of the pub... and then I saw her...

Deep in her book, a cup of coffee in front of her, and her little headscarf around his neck... her face just lit by a tiny candle...so candid.

She had to heard my voice because she lifted her head, locked her intense eyes with mine for a few seconds and dropped her face, blushing, in her book.  
I pretended to go in the backyard and I reached my house which is behind the pub via the back door... I couldn't believe she was here..all alone.

And again her perfume...

My head, my heart, everything spun so quickly...

She was the one who's blushing but I'm the one falling in love. She captured my heart with her scent and my soul with her eyes...

I couldn't sleep that night... Her gaze haunted me...My dark rose and her scent flowing through my nose again and again...I needed to run.

This morning I went to run... I thought the hills of the park would exhaust me enough to get her out my head... Reaching the top of the hill, I thought I was hallucinating... Sat on the bench, in her tight jeans, and black leather jacket she was here...her camera in her hands, entranced by the view...the landscape of London at her feet, with the words of William Blake lying in front of her... "I have conversed with the spiritual sun. I saw him on Primrose Hill'...  
  
And again her scarf... black and red... floating in the wind...

I watched it, unrolled itself from around her neck... I ran to catch it... She ran after me with her high heel boots.

I caught it before it was too late and I buried my nose in it... She smiled at me.

I brought it back to her, she offered to take me for a coffee.

She thanked me and blushed all the way to the pub...where I saw her the first time.

She grabbed my arm, almost boldly, but I think it was to keep my pace.

We reached the pub, I ordered our two coffees, and after a couple of hours, she was resting against my arm, which was casually placed on the back of the bench and finally I bent forward to her lips for a first kiss and at last, I buried my nose in her neck, smelling at the source, the divine perfume of my dark red rose.


End file.
